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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353427">The U</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wacklit/pseuds/senbong'>senbong (wacklit)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 08:16:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wacklit/pseuds/senbong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kushina and Mikoto skip class and share snacks.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Uchiha Fugaku/Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Mikoto/Uzumaki Kushina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The U</h2></a>
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    <p>"Now this is fusion cuisine at its finest." Kushina declares, stirring an iced-matcha latte from her seat on the concrete steps. Mikoto is under the handrail, feet firmly planted between Kushina's open legs, popping open a bag of pork rinds.</p><p>She extends the drink to Mikoto, who leans in and frowns around a sip. "Love me some green ice-water."</p><p>"Literally," Kushina says, reaching for the bag. She throws a pork rind into Mikoto's awaiting mouth and tries not to focus on the ember unfurling in her belly. Dusk makes the shine of Mikoto's black hair look bronze when the wind blows.</p><p>"What time do you have class?"</p><p>Mikoto checks her phone. "Fourteen minutes ago,"</p><p>Kushina's grin splits her face. "What class?"</p><p>"Thermodynamics,"</p><p>"Lit." She says, then. "Wait. Is that the class with the guy?"</p><p>"The lab tech?" Mikoto asks, pushing a strand of hair behind Kushina's ear.</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>The both share a look before breaking into giggles.</p><p>"Isn't he like, forty?" Kushina asks, nearly choking on the pork rinds Mikoto pushes into her mouth.</p><p>"He's twenty-nine," Mikoto mentions, dragging her fingers down Kushina's lip.</p><p>"Mikoto got a suga daddy," she accuses with her mouth full. Mikoto catches a strand of red hair between her lip and nose like a coconut-scented moustache. "I bet he takes you out for lunch when you pass his tests."</p><p>Mikoto snorts into her hair. "More like makes me spit my gum out before walking in. He doesn't even know my name,"</p><p>She gestures for the drink. Kushina hands it to her.</p><p>"What about you?" she says around the straw.</p><p>"What about me?"</p><p>"That white boy from ass-fuck Kansas."</p><p>Kushina stills for a moment. Mikoto grins, "Well?"</p><p>"He's from Missouri." She corrects softly, not meeting her eyes.</p><p>"Well, wherever his Kool-Aid pickles ass is from." Mikoto says, "He likes you,"</p><p>Kushina chews thoughtfully as a breeze blows her hair out from under Mikoto's nose. There are times Kushina pulls herself from the present situation to fully appreciate it. This is one of them. She's happy to have moved down here for college. Happy that Mikoto made the same decision from out west. Even if the stifling Miami heat is like nothing she's used to, she's happy for the blessed little coincidence of meeting her.</p><p>She finally swallows and leans down to peck Mikoto on the lips. "Everybody likes me,"</p><p>The matcha tastes better with pork rinds, as it turns out.</p><p>"Not like I do," Mikoto says, pressing their foreheads together. After the sun sets, they recycle the empty cup and stumble back to their dorm, faintly discussing what their meals should be coined.</p><p>"Dominipanese," Kushina claims, pulling her close.</p><p>"Japinican," Mikoto says against her shoulder.</p>
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